Of course, this does not apply to uninteresting old maids," Prudence modified with a dry little smile. I did not lay any traps for her. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows.
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